


Papa Don’t Preach

by novemberhush



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: A Little Light Angst, But I’ve got no problem with anyone who prefers to call him Noah, But he is mentioned several times fondly, Established Sterek relationship but Derek doesn’t actually appear, Fluff, Healthy father/son relationship, It’s all good, M/M, Mpreg, Scared Stiles, Sheriff Stilinski is a Good Dad, Sneaky ‘Star Trek’ reference, Stiles has big news for his dad, Supportive Sheriff Stilinski, The Sheriff’s name will always be John in my head, of the magical variety, sterek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-05
Updated: 2018-08-05
Packaged: 2019-06-22 06:36:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15575934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/novemberhush/pseuds/novemberhush
Summary: Stiles has some big news for his father and it’s a lot for both of them to get their heads around. Luckily their hearts already have a handle on things.





	Papa Don’t Preach

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MyCousinMiguel (Loyalty2WayStreet)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loyalty2WayStreet/gifts).



> Hey! Another tumblr fic I wrote way back when for my dear friend Millie’s birthday and have only just got around to posting over here. ‘Papa Don’t Preach’ by Madonna had come on the radio at work at least three times in one week and thanks to tumblr calling the Sheriff ‘Papa Stilinski’ so often (and the fact I have a soft spot for the Stilinski father & son relationship) the inspiration for this fic was thus born. I have tweaked it slightly from the version on tumblr, but nothing major, just a little tidying up. I hope you enjoy. :-)

“You’re _what_??”

 

“Pregnant, Dad. You know. Preggers. Preggo. Expecting. With child. Knocked up. In the family way. Got a bun in the oven. Eating for two. In the pudding club. Up the duff. Come down with a case of Irish toothache. Got a bat in the cave. Which is a real thing people say, apparently. Not that I have a ‘cave’...,” Stiles said, trailing off, before shaking his head and continuing. “Anyway, like they say in the old country, ‘I am with hope.’ And, no, I’m not gonna say it in the Polish. But that’s a sweet way of putting it, you gotta admit, Daddio. Or Granddaddio, I guess, from now on.”

 

Stiles finally stopped to draw breath and it didn’t take werewolf senses or a lifetime in law enforcement to tell he was nervous. His breathing was ragged and the sheriff suspected his heart was about ready to beat out of his chest. His fingers were drumming a twitchy beat against his leg and his eyes all but pleaded for understanding. His father wished he could give it to him, but there were a few things he needed to get straight in his own head before that could happen. The first being…

 

“But… you’re a boy!”

 

“Yep, that is correct. Gee, with observational skills like that you should be a cop or something,” Stiles deadpanned with an all too familiar roll of his eyes.

 

“Stiles…” his father muttered warningly, bowing his head, hands resting either side of his gun belt. “You gotta give me a minute here, kiddo. This is all…” he was the one who trailed off this time, head coming up, eyes facing skyward and his left hand waving in the air as he searched for the right word to describe what exactly _this_ was.

 

Stiles, it seemed, had a few suggestions.

 

“Mind-blowing? Overwhelming? Terrifying? Inconceivable? Well, not _inconceivable,_ obviously, because _hello,_ baby on board!” At that he stuck out his still relatively slim belly and pointed at it with both hands.

 

“Ri-frickin’- _diculous,_ is what it is!” he continued ranting. “And, okay, so it’s not an immaculate conception, but I’m guessing it’s a pretty unique situation and I’m _freaking out here, Pops!_ ” He started pacing back and forth, hands convulsively tugging at his hair. John ached for him.

 

“And Derek’s being all calm and zen and completely blissed out! It’s like he’s taken up yoga, or meditation, or finally got the therapy he needs, or all frickin’ three or something! He’s so frickin’ happy and that makes _me_ happy, but I’m so scared I’m gonna mess it all up. And it’s not just me anymore. It’s not just my life. It’s Derek’s, and it’s a _baby’s,_ for God’s sake, and what if I mess it all up??”

 

He stopped pacing long enough to turn to his father with the entreaty, “Say something, please! Tell me it’s all gonna be okay. Tell me you’re gonna be here for me, for us. Tell me Derek and I can do this, but we don’t have to do it alone. Tell me I’m going to be as good a father as you are. Oh Jesus, _am_ I gonna be a father or does this make me a mommy?? What am I even think-“

 

“Hey, hey, come here, come here.” Unable to take it anymore, John reached out and pulled his quivering son into a warm embrace.

 

“Of course you’ll be a father. And you’re gonna be a damn good one. Derek, too, I suspect.” John huffed a laugh. “You know, of all the things I worried about when you first started dating him, I have to admit, this was not one of them.”

 

Stiles snorted, “You and me both.”

 

“So how did it happen?”

 

Stiles pulled back far enough to level his father with a look that said _Seriously?_

 

“Well, Dad, when two people who really love each other …”

 

“Okay, okay, wiseass,” John said, face flushing crimson. “I get the mechanics of it. But I still don’t get the _how_ this happened.” It was his turn to gesticulate at Stiles’ belly. “Sex is one thing, Stiles, and, granted, it’s been a while since I took biology, but I don’t think things have changed _that_ much since I was a kid. Making a baby still requires one of the participants to have things like ovaries and a uterus and.. and... I don’t know… _tubes_ of some sort. I think. Last time I checked, anyway. And I’m pretty sure you were born without any of those things. So, I ask you again, how did it happen?”

 

It was Stiles’ turn to bow his head. He mumbled something so quietly John didn’t quite catch it.

 

“Huh? What was that?”

 

“I _said_ ,” Stiles said, raising his head with a sigh, “I kinda, sorta, wished it.”

 

“You wished it?? So you wanted this to happen and somehow the universe just... made it so??”

 

“ _Yes!!_ Well, _no_ , the _universe_ didn’t just _make it so._  God, who are you, Captain Picard or something?? No, the universe didn’t make it happen. A djinni did. And I didn’t wish for it. Not really. Although, maybe I sorta did? Unconsciously, or subconsciously, or something, I don’t really know.”

 

“A djinni? And that’s, what, like a genie or something?”

 

“Basically, yeah. We rescued one a couple months back and seeing as it was my brilliant plan that saved the day she offered me a wish in return. Well, _offered_ implies that I had any say in the matter. She said she owed me a debt of gratitude and the djinn _hate_ owing anyone anything apparently so she _insisted._ She got pretty intense about it and it seemed like she’d be seriously pissed off if I didn’t take her up on the offer. I didn’t wanna know what would happen if I said no. So I made a wish.”

 

“And you wished for a baby?”

 

“No! Well, I don’t think so. Maybe I did. I don’t kn-“

 

“Okay,” the sheriff butted in, cutting off another freak out before it began. “What exactly _did_ you wish for?”

 

“You gotta understand, Dad, we’d never dealt with one of these guys before and all I knew of the djinn was what I’d seen on TV and read in books. ‘I Dream of Jeannie’, Robin Williams in ‘Aladdin’, ‘The Arabian Nights’ stories, that sort of thing. All the folklore around these guys suggests that you have to be really, really careful what you wish for-“

 

“No doy,” John broke in, earning himself an unimpressed glare from Stiles who continued as if he hadn’t been interrupted.

 

“... because these guys are really good at twisting things and granting your wish, but not in the way you expected. Some sources also say that this is especially true of selfish wishes so you should always try to wish from as pure a place as possible.”

 

“And you wished for a baby?” John asked again.

 

“ _No!!_ Dad, will you let me finish??”

 

Chastened, John pursed his lips and nodded, intimating that Stiles should continue.

 

“So I just thought of the purest thing I could. And that was Derek. So I wished I could make him as happy as possible. And hey presto, six weeks later I’m throwing up every morning and peeing on a stick and, well, _surprise!_ ” Stiles did the jazz hands motion and plastered a fake grin on his wan face. Which John noticed was sporting even darker circles than normal under the eyes. They spoke of the sleep Stiles must have lost these last few weeks, dealing with all this. John drew him to him once again, one big hand cupping the back of his head tenderly while the other soothed up and down his back.

 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, kiddo. It’s okay. So there’ll be one more stocking above the fireplace at Christmas from now on. That’s okay with me.” A thought struck him then. “That is, if it’s okay with you? You do want this baby, don’t you, Stiles? Derek’s not forcing you to keep it or anything? Because I know he’s the father too, but it’s your body, son, and it’s your decision, and you know I’ll support you whatever you decide.”

 

John felt his son grip him tighter, reminding him of all those times he’d held Stiles as a scared child, waking in the night from some bad dream, calling out for his daddy to come save him from the monster under his bed or in his closet.

 

Stiles sniffed a little and John realised he was crying. Claudia had cried too when she was pregnant, he remembered. Hormones, she’d said. He didn’t yet know if that was the reason Stiles was crying, or only part of it. He waited for his son to tell him, hand still gentling up and down his back.

 

After a few minutes Stiles pulled away, swiping at his tear-stained face, and attempting a smile.

 

“You should have seen Derek’s face when we found out, Dad. I’ve never seen him so happy. So soft, so at peace. He’s come close a few times when we’ve been together, like the first time we kissed, the first time I told him I loved him, the first time we … well, you know…”

 

John nodded, his mind flickering back to his own first times experiencing those moments with Claudia, and to the moment they’d found out they were having a baby, and the joy he’d felt on all those occasions. And now that baby was all grown up and having a baby of his own (or at least it seemed that was the way he was leaning). But he still needed his father to reassure him everything would be all right. John could no longer tell him there was no such thing as monsters, but this? This he could do.

 

“But how did _you_ feel?”

 

“Honestly? I was shocked. Obviously. And scared. More scared than I’ve ever been before, and that’s saying something. But…”

 

“But?” John prodded gently.

 

“But I couldn’t stop thinking about how I was carrying Derek’s _baby_. _Our_ baby. Carrying this little person we’d made together. This little person that was made up of bits of me and him, and you and Mom, and Derek’s mom and dad, and all the Hales and Stilinskis that have come before us. I couldn’t stop thinking about how we’d created this new life, out of our love for each other, and about how much love we were going to feel for this child. How much love we _already_ felt. I was in awe, Dad. In awe of how Derek and I had taken what we felt for each other and turned it into something bigger than ourselves. We’d turned it into our own little family. And I… I…”

 

“Yes?”

 

“I thought my heart was going to burst with joy.”

 

“Well, it sounds like I need to dig out the traditional Stilinski family christening robe then, doesn’t it?” John said with a grin.

 

And ten months later that’s exactly what Jeannie Hope Stilinski-Hale wore the day she was baptised, with her proud fathers, grandfather and assorted pack members looking on.

 

(And the brother who followed three years later, and the one who came two years after that, and the sister who arrived another two years after _that_ \- because it turns out the djinn really, _really_ hate feeling beholden to anyone and consequently tend to go all out with the generosity with which they fulfil the wishes they grant - were just as resplendent when it came their turn to wear that particular piece of family history.)

 

**Author's Note:**

> And there you have it! Like I said in my opening notes, I have a huge soft spot for the father/son relationship between Stiles and his dad. Or as tumblr would say, I’m all about the ‘Stilinski family feels’. Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed it. Feel free to come tell me what you thought of it, either here in the comments section or over on tumblr where I’m also known as novemberhush. :-)


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